Oh, none can beat the Chargers
by Mr. Teatime
Summary: With the Breach healed and order rapidly restoring, Bull's Chargers have been tasked with protecting Ambassador Montilyet as she meets with a group of Orlesian nobles to discuss trade deals. Things start to go south when Cole shows up uninvited, looking to become the newest Charger.


"Bloody tits, it's cold."

He counted down in his head, wondering who would be the one to say it. Three, two…

"You could've put on a shirt, Chief, I think it's a special enough occasion." It was Krem. Of course it was, it was always bloody Krem.

Iron Bull shrugged. "That would be as good as admitting defeat. Let these mountains think they've got the better of me, and I'd never hear the end of it."

"…From the mountains," Krem said with deadpan sincerity.

"Geography can be very smug. Can't let things go to their head." The Bull kicked an errant rock, as if showing the landscape who was boss, and watched it clatter off the road and into the woods beyond. Well, to him it was a rock. To most others it would be more accurately described as a boulder.

The mountains of Emprise Du Lion were still a treacherous place, even after the Red Templars had been mostly cleared out earlier in the year. There were still bears, bandits, particularly agitated cold fronts – but those weren't likely to go away, no matter how many Heralds of Andraste came crawling out of the fade determined to rid the world of evil.

So, the place was ostensibly as safe as it was going to get. That meant it was time for much more exciting matters, like *trade route mapping* and *land title ownership.* This was the Bull's current thought process, and it was dripping with sarcasm. He had joined the Inquisition to shove his axe right down ancient evil demon mages throats, but now that that was all over he had stayed.

It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He wasn't exactly welcome back home. The name Tal-Vashoth was still an unfamiliar one to him, it tasted wrong on his tongue.

He shivered, and not from the cold. There's a reason you're not a philosopher, Bull. Just stick to killing shit. You can soul search later.

"That's it," came the grumbling voice of Rocky, the Charger's token Dwarf, whose articulations were in a more or less permanent state of grumbling as was the case with most Dwarves. "I'm going into the cart. Why should the Antivan broad get all the comfort?"

"No," snapped the Bull. "She stays in there, we stay out here. That's the deal."

"You're hard to notice, Rocky, but not that hard," Dalish said with a smirk. Iron Bull eyed her enviously. He was pretty sure the Dalish had never bothered to invent houses, so the braving of the elements was easy for her, probably.

"Y'know, I've never chatted up the Ambassador all that much, but she doesn't seem the hoighty toighty type, like most in her line of work. I doubt she'd mind if—" Krem began, but the Bull cut him off.

"No," he said again. "What's wrong with you guys? We save one bloody world and suddenly you're too good to march alongside a caravan without whining about your aching footsies?"

"You're the one who brought up the cold."

"I was making idle conversation. Now shut up and let me and my frostbite enjoy some peace and quiet."

They walked for some time, the only sounds the rustling of the wind through the trees and the rattling of the carriage's wheels over the poorly cared for cobblestone roads. In the distance a wolf howled or something, probably. Bull wasn't really listening for that. His ears were trained to pick out sounds that shouldn't be there, not sounds that were.

There was the swish of a curtain being pulled aside, and Lady Josephine Montilyet stepped forth to where the driver was sitting. Grim was steering the horses. Steed and master were equally undisposed toward joining the conversation.

"Ambassador," Krem said with a polite nod. Iron Bull straightened himself subconsciously and saluted.

The Ambassador giggled. As a spy trained in identifying the subtle differences in humanoid behavior, Bull could pick out a giggle from a crowd of laughs, chuckles, snickers and guffaws. This was a giggle, no question about it.

"No need for such formalities, Iron Bull. I'd like to think by now we've all been through enough to be considered friends." She smiled warmly. Bull's face was a perfect mask of indifference.

"Back at Skyhold, sure," he said. "But the Inquisitor charged me with keeping you safe during these negotiations. This is a job."

"Well, I rest easy knowing that I am in good hands." Josephine kept smiling, Bull kept maintaining such perfect balance between smile and frown that somewhere a monk burst into tears.

Once the Ambassador had retreated back into the confines of her carriage, the Bull reverted back to his normal self almost instantaneously. "You know, last time I came through here, there were red lyrium stalactites bigger than me sprouting up all over the place."

"Stalagmites," Rocky said. "Stalactites drip down from the ceiling, stalagmites come up from the ground." The Dwarf had ceased walking and was now sitting on the edge of the carriage, tossing a few pebbles through the air from one hand to the other.

"Wow, thank you so much," Iron Bull responded. "As I was saying, red lyrium bigger than me. Varric was obsessed with destroying them, so I had a special mace I would use to shatter the fuckin' things like glass. Made this weirdly satisfying sound when they crumbled."

Rocky noticed one of the pebbles he was juggling was a slight shade of red, and hurriedly snatched his hand back, letting it drop into the snow.

Dalish, who at some point had slipped ahead to scout down the path, returned and announced, "Suledin Keep isn't much farther. There are track marks from other carts so we're likely going to be fashionably late."

Iron Bull frowned. He would've liked to have swept the place before the meetings were to begin, find out where the best defensible positions were and have the Ambassador prepped to get through any escape routes at a moment's notice. There weren't likely to be any dragon attacks or sieges by Red Templars, but profit-hungry Orlesian landowners were nearly as bad.

His ears twitched. He heard something – or rather, in a way his gut understood even if his brain didn't, he hadn't heard something that he should have heard. In a moment his axe was in his hands, and reacting to their leader, the rest of the Chargers were soon ready to defend the Ambassador from a horde of rampaging red lyrium infused darkspawn bears, if it came to it.

Nothing.

"…What're we waiting for?" Stitches hissed to the Bull.

"Krem, Skinner, go check it out," the Bull grunted, indicating a patch of dead trees off the western side of the path. The two moved, quietly as rabbits, while the rest of the charges held their breath anxiously. Even the horses seemed to sense something was amiss. No, wait, the Bull corrected himself – one just started relieving itself. Fuckin' horses.

Krem and Skinner reached the copse. Krem, sword drawn, lifted his free hand, prepared to swat aside the dead branches and see what was there—

A blast of smoke knocked him off balance. Skinner let out a series of coughs. In an instant, the Bull was charging forth, axe in hand, a battle cry piercing the crisp mountain air. In the back of his mind he could hear the sounds of the Chargers attacking as well, following their leader bravely into the unknown.

Even Josephine was roused by the racket, and above the sound of swinging weapons was a shrill, "what is going—"

Suddenly Iron Bull's vision was full of Krem.

It is a simple fact of reality, regardless of how much magical energy is present in the given universe, that once six hundred pounds of Qunari had begun charging, it is very hard to get it to stop.

Somehow, the Bull managed, and as an added bonus he came to a halt before smearing his lieutenant halfway across the Dales. Krem held up a slim figure.

"Who are we fighting?" Cole asked.

"Shit," Iron Bull mumbled. "What are you doing here, kid?"

"Is that Cole?" Josephine asked.

"I came to join you," Cole answered. The Bull looked around.

"What, the Inquisitor wanted you to help protect the Ambassador during the negotiations?" he asked, not bothering to hide his confusion. He was sure the boss would've told him about this.

"No, I came to join *you*" Cole said again, stressing the last word as if it somehow made things clearer.

"What's going on?" Josephine called out.

"Right, I forgot how much fun you are to talk to, it's like doing a crossword puzzle while hitting yourself in the face with a brick at the same time." He sheathed his axe. "Well, I'm not sparing one of my men to escort you back to Skyhold so I guess you can tag along to Suledin. Just—"

"I won't do any weird shit."

"Don't do any weird shi—see, the mind reading thing? That counts as weird shit."

"Oh."

"Why is everyone ignoring me?" Josephine asked as the seven Chargers and one Cole moved back into position around the cart.

"Sorry, Ambassador, we had an unwelcome stowaway," Iron Bull said, jerking his thumb at Cole. "I've seen the kid fight, so I'm not too worried. Unfortunately I've also heard him talk. I'm not convinced he'd be what you'd call an 'asset' to trade negotiations."

"I joined the Inquisition to make it all whole again," Cole said, "but it's still not. We took some bad parts out but the good parts aren't all back together yet."

"Reminds me of a pet nug I had as a kid," Rocky said. "Used to sit around and chirp all day, and I never had any damn clue what it wanted. Then my brother ate it." He paused. "Man he was an asshole."

"Well, I'm…happy to have you with us, Cole." Iron Bull had to give the Ambassador credit. A stab happy demon kid appears in a puff of smoke before her and she extends the hand of good faith after hardly a moments panic.

"File in at the back, alongside Stitches," the Bull ordered. "Stay alert. That means no talking. Krem, up front with me."

His lieutenant followed him up over a cresting hill. In the distance, Suledin Keep loomed like a possessive lover making sure the mountains weren't erecting any other keeps behind its back.

"So, how do we get rid of him?" Bull asked once they were out of earshot from the others. "I know the boss likes him, so I don't aim to kill him, but this is my op, and without the Inquisitor to keep him on a leash I don't want him in the way."

"How should I know?" Krem responded. "Do I look like an exorcist? Or a babysitter? An…exorcist babysitter?"

"Yes?"

Krem hit him.

"Why us," Bull muttered. "It's not like there isn't plenty else to do for the Inquisition."

"Maybe he's got a crush on you," Krem teased. "He said he wanted to join you. While he didn't say 'in bed' out loud, I could see in his eyes…"

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Go fuck yourself."

They slowed the pace, allowing the carriage and its accompaniment to catch up with them. Finally, the gates of Suledin creaked open before them. The guards at the gate had been told beforehand that, despite whatever their better judgment told them, an approaching one-eyed Qunari with a small army behind him was to be welcomed by opening the gates, not barricading them shut and running to hide in the cellar.

The Bull held out a hand to Lady Josephine, who delicately accepted it and stepped down into the snow. She stumbled slightly but recovered with startling agility. The hem of her dress slushed across the snow-covered grass.

"Lady Montilyet! Oh, little Josephine. Is that truly you?"

Josephine blushed as they entered the main courtyard of the keep. "Well, it has been a while since I have gone by 'little Josephine,' but yes, it is – ah! Baron Edouard!"

A well armoured Orlesian man came forth, backed by a small entourage of Inquisition foot soldiers. He took Josephine's hand and delicately kissed the back of it. Josephine turned towards Bull, the Chargers, and Cole.

"This is Baron Edouard Desjardins. He has been put in charge of operations here at Suledin. He is an…old friend."

"Her father and I used to go hunting. My, my, but this is making me feel so old, seeing you grown into such a beautiful and powerful woman." Edouard smiled at Josephine. The Bull had the sudden urge to punch the man's head off, though for the life of him he didn't know why.

"Well, I'm sure your men would like to settle in," Edouard went on. He did a quick headcount. "Although…I was told there would only be seven of you? I am seeing eight. I am afraid we may not—"

"It's okay," Cole chimed in. "I don't sleep, or eat. Sometimes I do, but I don't have to. The food hurts going down, but Varric said you are supposed to peel the onion first, so perhaps I just need more practice."

Silence.

"Well, that's…convenient, I suppose," Edouard said, his eyes glazing over in the way of those who have encountered a brick wall and would simply rather turn around and go home than figure out how to get through it. "My men will show you to your lodgings. Lady Josephine, if you will follow me, I shall show you to your quarters. Some of the nobles have already arrived but we're expecting more to get here throughout the evening. I do hope the trip was not too arduous…"

The Orlesian and the Antivan chatted amiably for a few moments, before Edouard turned and squinted at Iron Bull, who had remained close behind them.

"I'm sorry, sir, perhaps I was unclear. The Lady Ambassador shall be sleeping in the upper levels of the Keep, in quarters specially set aside for her. You and your men will join my soldiers in the barracks."

The Bull crossed his arms across his chest. His stature could have emasculated a golem. "I go where she goes," he said.

Edouard opened his mouth to fight back, but Josephine placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It is okay," she said. "He has been assigned to protect me, and he is quite dedicated to his work."

"I simply feel it is foolish to expect any trouble in her quarters," Edouard said, getting noticeably defensive. "We're in the middle of a keep in the middle of Inquisition controlled lands. I have over two dozen guards under my command, who have spent weeks regularly sweeping this place from the ground up. If there were any dangers, I would have known, and dealt with it, days before the Ambassador arrived."

"Great. It'll be an easy job then. But I'm still going to do it." The Bull's expression said: I would find it a roaring good time if you were to try and stop me, so please, by all means.

Edouard's expression said: I'm not getting paid enough for this shit. With a sigh of resignation, he said, "right, if you'll both follow me…"

That night, the Chargers had joined the rest of the Inquisition troops for a little food and a lot of booze. Krem could laugh and quaff and slap comrades on the back with the best of them, but tonight something was nagging at the back of his mind. He glanced around the court, and spotted Cole, doing a very good impression of something that didn't exist. Krem excused himself and made his way over.

"We've never talked much, have we? I see you all the time around the Herald's Rest, but, ah, I've never approached you because…" Just don't say anything mean, Krem. "…Because you seem like kind of a weird bloke, so…" Shit. Well, too late now. "But, I'm sure you're. Nice."

Krem felt that if there were a hole he could go fall in, that would be just great.

"I'm sorry," Cole said, and he did seem genuinely apologetic. "I wasn't listening."

"Thank the Maker," Krem sighed. "Do you want to come join us, Cole? I don't know if you drink, but it's never too late to start."

"You're something you're not," Cole said. Krem rolled his eyes.

"Yes, my gender is incredibly fascinating, so get that all out of your system now."

"What? No. You are what you are, there. It makes sense. It's real." Krem blinked a few times, unsure how to react to that. "I meant…all of you. You're a Tevinter. He's a Dwarf. She's a Dalish Elf. But you're also Chargers. When I joined the Inquisition, I thought…how can something be when it isn't? Put a bunch of people together in a room, and they don't suddenly become anything other than themselves. But the Inquisitor told me…that sometimes they do."

Suddenly there wasn't enough ale in the world as far as Krem was concerned.

"Yeah, we're Bull's Chargers," he said, in the slow tone of voice one uses with the very young, the very drunk, and the very stupid. "Bull doesn't much care what we are, so long as we can fight and follow orders. And we don't care that he's a terrifying, godless, horned behemoth. So we fight together. That's all."

"I've fought alongside Iron Bull before," Cole responded. "So I am a Charger."

"Well." Krem bit the inside of his cheek. "Dunno that it's my place to say. It's not JUST fighting. It's…blimey."

"Solas wanted me to be a spirit," Cole said, forcing Krem to do some mental contortions to align himself with yet another new train of thought. "Spirits, and demons, are all just one thing. Compassion, or justice, or rage, or desire. They're that one thing completely, and that one thing is completely them. But Varric and the Inquisitor helped me be…Human. And Humans aren't one thing. They're not anything, and they're also so many things. I don't know what to be. That's why I came. Varric is someone who needs to help his home, Cassandra is someone who needs to rebuild the Chantry, Dorian is someone who needs to redeem his homeland, and I used to be someone who took the pain away but now I don't think I'm anything at all. And it scares me."

Suddenly Krem was hugging him.  
"What is happening," Cole asked.

"Sorry," Krem said, bravado re-entering his voice. He took a big, manly swig of ale. "Not sure what came over me. Emotions, and…feh. Just come grab a drink, will you? If not for you, then for me?"

"Alright," Cole said. "What do I do after I've grabbed it?"

Having thoroughly checked every inch of Josephine's room, the Iron Bull made to leave.

"Thank you for your…thoroughness. I shall sleep easy tonight knowing you watch over me." She smiled, and the Bull could detect that it was a nervous smile. In an instant a twang struck across his heart: she had invited that demon kid along without a second thought, but close proximity to Iron Bull made her nervous. Normally the Bull liked that he made people nervous. Now he just felt like an ass.

"Of course, Ambassador. If you need anything, just…yell really loudly."

"I shall! Well, I'll yell a little loudly."

Iron Bull cleared his throat, left the room, and shut the door behind him. He'd been alone in women's bedrooms more times than he could count but he had never before felt so surely like he needed a drink or fifty.

"Hey, boss. Brought you a mug." It was Krem. The Bull smiled, and took the offered drink.

"Mug of what?" he asked, sniffing it.

"Who the hell knows?"

"Fair enough," the Bull responded, and chugged the entire thing in a matter of seconds.

"So, I've been thinking," Krem said.

"'Bout these Orlesians, right? I don't trust 'em either," the Bull said darkly. "They all wear masks, which is fuckin' weird enough as it is, but hey, I own a pair of striped green and purple trousers so I try not to be too judgmental about fashion. But then they all act like they're the most high-born little shits to ever grace this place with their divine presence, all while actually being money-grubbing, back-stabbing bullies. The only thing worse than an asshole, is an asshole who genuinely does not realize he's an asshole."

"Right, sure, all of that," Krem nodded hurriedly, "but I've also been thinking about Cole."

"Oof. Sorry to hear that. I've managed to avoid that so far."

Krem took a few deep breaths, then, as if leaping into an ice cold river, blurted out, "I think we should consider letting Cole join the Chargers."

"Hah! Oh, man. Thanks for that. Hey, if you're heading back down, will you get me another drink?"

"No, I mean it. You've said yourself he's a good fighter. He can handle himself, he's always followed the Inquisitors orders so we know he's not really a troublemaker, and—"

"And he's a fucking demon, Krem." All jocularity had left the Bull's voice.

"Everybody thought I was a freak until I met you, Bull. Skinner's people were treated like scum, Rocky's whole society is based around kicking outcasts in the balls, and how many people would try and gut you soon as they show those horns and your lovely shade of gray skin?"

The Bull was silent for a moment. He reflected on that nervous smile from Josephine, perfectly thankful as was only proper, but masking a deep desire to get away from him. The only people who reviled Tal-Vashoth more than his own people was…everyone else.

"We're not having this discussion," he snapped. "The Chargers ain't recruiting. I'm sure Cole is a very nice demon, but—"

"Huh." Krem gave Iron Bull a cold stare. "Here I thought you were different, Bull. I thought you were able to look past that shit, like you did with me, with all of us. I guess you're just willing to accept a little bit more before you become a bigoted asshole. The men and I will be ready for morning drills first thing tomorrow, chief. Don't worry."

Krem turned and left. Bull glared at him as he went.


End file.
